


Boring Side Effect

by Isis



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Ghost Sex, Kink Meme, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 11:44:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2810876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/pseuds/Isis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dying, he'd told Lynch, was a boring side effect.  If he'd known just how boring it was going to be, he'd have taken better care to stay alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boring Side Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request on [ravencycle_kink](http://ravencycle-kink.dreamwidth.org/): _Kavinsky/anyone, noncon. Consent is overrated. Please make Kavinsky the rapist and not the victim._

There were a lot of things that Joseph Kavinsky detested. Math class. Speed limits. Richard Dick Gansey the Fucking Third. It was an impersonal, even-handed hatred he had for these things, almost a detached hatred, because all these things could be gotten around, one way or another. He could cut class; he could pay the ticket. He could even get some measure of satisfaction from fucking around with Gansey and his loser friends.

But the one thing he hated the most, the absolute worst thing, was being bored. Which did not happen often, thank fuck, because Kavinsky had made it his life's work to not be bored. There were all sorts of wonderful substances that helped him not be bored. Green pills, red pills, fast cars and forgeries. He could blow shit up. He could blow Gansey's asshole boyfriend Lynch.

Kavinsky was almost never bored.

Until the Fourth of July party when Lynch decided he wasn't going to play nice, and turned Kavinsky's fire-dragon back on him. _Boom._

Dying, he'd told Lynch, was a boring side effect. If he'd known just how boring it was going to be, he'd have taken better care to stay alive.

* * *

"Hey, sweetheart," he said, striding toward Lynch. His shaven head was bowed, his arms wrapped around his pansy of a younger brother. "You found him. Goody for you."

Lynch didn't look up, didn't say anything. 

"Great show, wasn't it? Come on, you got yours, now give me mine."

"It's all right," said Lynch, but he was talking to his brother, and Kavinsky decided that pissed him off. He reached out to grab Lynch's shoulder...and his hand passed right through.

"Whoa," he said. "That was different. Is this your drug trip, or mine?"

"Is he all right?" asked Gansey. Kavinsky hadn't seen him coming. He stuck his hand out and it went right through Gansey's chest.

"Yeah," said Lynch quietly.

"No, I am not fucking all right," said Kavinsky. "I am apparently _dead_."

Nobody paid any attention to him.

* * *

It didn't take long for Kavinsky to discover that being dead was really, really boring. He didn't sleep – he couldn't sleep – so he couldn't go to his dream-place and dream up cool shit. He was stuck in the real world, except the real world was weirdly unreal to him, now. Admittedly it was pretty awesome to just think about being somewhere, or with someone, and boom, there he was. But he couldn't touch anybody; nobody heard what he said. What was the point of fucking with people if they didn't react? 

"Hey! Medium with extra cheese." Not that he was hungry. But pizza was always good.

The waitress did not even glance toward him, and the fat man who came into Nino's a moment later sat right _in_ him, which was fucking weird.

"Give me the wheel, you don't know what the fuck you're doing."

Jiang kept looking straight ahead, through the Supra's windshield.

"Hey, sweetheart! I'm talking to you, here!"

Lynch frowned, and his head swiveled in Kavinsky's direction, but then he turned back to Gansey-boy. "Thought I heard – forget it. Anyway, you've got the timeline wrong," he said, and stabbed a finger at the paper laid out in front of them.

"Planning your wedding?" Kavinsky sneered, and slapped his hand down on top of Lynch's. It went through, down to the paper, and this time Lynch seemed to not even notice at all.

"You can't touch them," said a voice behind him, and Kavinsky whirled.

"Who. The fuck," he said carefully, "are you?"

It was obviously another Aglionby boy, though he couldn't remember having seen him with Lynch and Gansey. He was small and slouchy, and his face was weirdly messed up. Like someone had punched him and it had caved like cardboard.

" _You_ can't touch them," the boy repeated. "Guess you didn't get yourself killed the right way."

"What are you talking about?"

Gansey looked up. "Did you say something, Noah?"

"Just talking to another dead guy," said the slouchy boy. "The one Ronan killed."

Lynch's head shot up. "Kavinsky?"

Kavinsky covered the few strides to where he was in a heartbeat. "Yeah, it's me." Except Lynch was looking at this guy Noah, not at him. He waved his hand in front of Lynch's face, _through_ Lynch's face.

"You can't touch them because you're not bound to them, like I am," said Noah. "That's why they can't hear you, either."

Lynch frowned. "Noah, you're fading. Concentrate."

Noah didn't look like he was fading. In fact, Kavinsky thought that he seemed almost more solid than the others. And he could hear Kavinsky, when nobody else could.

"Wait, are you dead, too?" he asked abruptly.

"Well, duh."

Even with his weird caved-in cheek, Noah looked smug. He stood there, all cocky, and Kavinsky felt something hard and angry explode in his chest. He was next to Noah in an instant. His hands shot out to grab him by the shoulders. It almost surprised him when his fingers closed around what felt like flesh and bone.

"Got you, fucker!" he crowed.

"Let me go!" Noah struggled under his hands, but Kavinsky moved in close, pinned him against the wall. "Ronan, get this guy off me!"

Kavinsky swiveled his head. Lynch and Gansey were looking in his direction, more or less, but they didn't look like guys who were concerned about their buddy who was getting himself beat up. They looked like guys who were hearing a weird noise in the other room and were wondering if their cat had got itself a mouse.

Noah squeaked, and Kavinsky grinned. He put his face real close to Noah's ear and whispered, "Meow."

"Come on, man," said Noah, his nervous eyes darting over Kavinsky's shoulder. 

What a perfect set-up. Lynch and Gansey couldn't touch him, even if Noah did manage to get through to them somehow. Which he apparently could do, sometimes, and wouldn't that be the coolest thing in the world if they _did_ figure it out – and were helpless to stop him.

The thought made him hard, and he pressed Noah's body against the wall with his own, grinding against it, reveling in finally being able to _touch_ someone. He bit down on a bit of Noah's neck. It gave oddly to his teeth, not quite like flesh and skin, but it was satisfying. He did it again. Noah whimpered. Kavinsky laughed.

_Oh_ , yeah. This was gonna be fucking _awesome_.

He wrestled with the fly of his jeans one-handed for a moment, then remembered he only needed to think them open. The one advantage of being dead. 

"I guess when you're dead, you gotta make your own fun," he crooned into Noah's ear. He pushed him down the wall. "Come on, baby. I need some fun."

"Go away!" Noah pushed at him, ineffectually, and Kavinsky grabbed onto his head and shoved. "Ow!"

"I can't touch anyone else, sweetheart. You're elected."

"Noah, was that you?" Gansey called from somewhere behind him.

"Yeah, you've got to –" 

" _You've_ got to shut up," Kavinsky told him, thrusting hard against his mouth, which abruptly closed. He pinched Noah's nose to force him to open back up. "And you've got to suck my dick."

Noah gagged, making an incoherent noise of protest, but took it in. His mouth didn't feel exactly like a normal alive-person's mouth but it was close enough. Kavinsky's dick probably didn't feel normal to Noah, either, but in any case, that was Noah's problem. Kavinsky was having no problems at all.

It was too bad he didn't have any drugs. It was always better with drugs.

"Noah, are you here?"

Noah's eyes shifted and his head jerked. Kavinsky shoved it right back where he wanted it and turned his head enough to see that Gansey and Lynch had stood and were uncertainly walking around the room. 

"You okay?" said Gansey. "Do we need to get Blue?"

Noah grunted around his mouthful.

"Hell, you're practically gone, Noah. Is that you on the floor?" An arm went right through Kavinsky's leg, a hand reaching for Noah, and that was fucking weird. But Lynch's hand kept going, his fingers closing where Noah's shoulder would have been, just inches away from Kavinsky's hand. 

_Boom_.

From Lynch's hand to Noah's mouth and into his body, Kavinsky felt it like twenty thousand volts of pure electricity, like a Molotov cocktail lit and sparking and thrown at full force. He felt Noah's mouth go soft and hazy, felt himself getting harder, not just his dick but _everything_ , his whole _body_ becoming more real, like he was on fire, tripping on the best shit ever, king of the fucking universe. He took it all in and it swirled around him, from his heart down to his balls, and he was gonna blow, he was gonna fill this guy's mouth and throat, three two one –

"Jesus fuck, is that Kavinsky?" he heard, and the outrage in Lynch's voice was beautiful, just fucking beautiful, the perfect soundtrack for coming down Noah's throat.

For one magnificent moment, it was the greatest high ever.

Then he crashed.

If the rush when Lynch had touched Noah was like power pouring into him, this was like power pouring out of him, out of his balls and through his dick, and there was nothing he could do but watch it go, watch himself get dim and weak as Noah's strength surged again. Before he had finished, Noah had spat him out and pushed him away. 

"You okay there?" Gansey said.

"I don't want to talk about it," Noah said, wiping his mouth. 

Kavinsky reached for him again. This time his hand went through him, like it had gone through the others. Even to his own eyes, his arm looked transparent, and it was fading fast.

"Hey, fuckers," he tried to say. Nothing came out of his mouth but a long breathy sigh.

"So, _was_ that Kavinsky?"

"Yeah," said Noah. "But he's gone now."

And he was.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Disappearing Act (the Smarter than I Look remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095634) by [Lady_Ganesh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ganesh/pseuds/Lady_Ganesh)




End file.
